


before the blight.

by foundCarcosa



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Canon, Avvar, Barbarian!Alistair, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A peek into the life of young Ali Bear-Boy, adopted son of the Avvars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before the blight.

There had been a commotion, Annis recalled; a disturbance in Ali’s home. Annis had been setting up to do a bit of weaving, since his mother had gotten wary of his constant visits to Elder Ruraidh’s home and had begun plying him with domestic tasks to keep him in place, when he heard the shouting. Ali streaked across the clanhold not too long after, running as fast as his legs would take him.

"He used to be such a sweet boy," Annis’ mother commented as she brought in the washing, but Annis said nothing.

Footsteps sounded behind him now, as he battened the cloth with a reed, and he paused and turned.  
Ali stopped, looking guilty. “Hi.”

Annis smiled, and Ali seemed to relax, coming forward to sit next to him. “Kattrin’s got you doing chores again, huh.”

"Elder Ruraidh says I may have the Sight," Annis said softly in response, turning back to the loom. "Ma Kattrin is not happy."

"At least you have something to look forward to." Ali sighed, scowling, his adolescent features shadowed as if a cloud had passed over them. "I’m apparently no one. Just some baby they took off some noble guy’s hands because he didn’t want to take care of me and Frosthold was looking to open up a trade avenue."

"It was not the Arl that gave you to them," Annis said mildly, his hands pausing as his dreamy eyes unfocused momentarily.

Ali started to continue his tirade, but his tongue stilled in his throat as Annis’ words sunk in, and he turned to look at the older boy in confusion. “What? Who, then? … Wait, you _knew_ about this? You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

"I didn’t know until now," Annis said; that wasn’t entirely the truth, but Ali was upset enough as it was.

"You knew! I can’t believe this! Does everyone know I’m some throwaway child except me? Is it… is it like the clan _joke?”_

"There is a reason for everything." Annis’ voice is fainter now, his serenity shaken by Ali’s frustrated anger.

"Oh, come off it. I hate you, too, you and your… your stupid _sight.”_

==

It was nightfall before Ali returned, nightfall before Annis’ heart stopped fluttering like a frightened bird. They were almost men now, Annis and Ali, but Ali made him feel like a boy, young and shy and full of hope for the future. Ali was boyhood personified, but he was losing his youth fast, and Annis feared for both of them, but mostly for Ali, his friend, his _lennán._

He knew Ali did not hate him as he’d said, but that didn’t prevent the fear from squeezing him like a vise, making his breaths short and his chest tight. He'd stopped weaving shortly after Ali had run off again, back hunched, his hair spilling into his lap. He had closed his eyes and tried to recall to mind the fleeting images that had, earlier, brought those damning words to his tongue.

He’d seen a woman with the soul of a dragon, and a babe in swaddling clothing, but that was all. That was all.  
Perhaps he’d been wrong. He’d certainly been wrong to speak, and increase the depth of Ali’s alienation.

"I don’t hate you," was the first thing Ali said when he crept back behind Annis’ home to embrace him, and Annis smiled briefly — _I know_ — but could not keep the sadness out of his eyes.

"We are changing, aren’t we?" Ali asked, his head against Annis’ chest, his ear over the older boy’s heart.

"We are."

"Frosthold seems… smaller. Is it because I am bigger now?"

"Frosthold isn’t your destiny."

"What does _that_ mean?” A note of fear had crept into Ali’s voice, and Annis’ sorrow seemed to increase in proportion.

"What does that _mean, lennán?”_  
Annis only held him tighter, while he still could.


End file.
